Are You Okay?
by CapriceSquire
Summary: After returning to LA only to find James signed to Hawk Records, Kendall and Logan connect in a different way at "The Rocque-Woods". Takes place during Big Time Concert. KendallxLogan, implied JamesxCarlos. SLASH. Rewrite posted February 6, 2012.
1. Come, Sit Here

**Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Big Time Rush.**

**2012 REWRITE.**

* * *

"Ow."

Logan sat up stiffly and rubbed his eye a little. His back and neck hurt. He arched his spine, wincing at the long series of cracks and pops. It was so difficult trying to sleep on those stiff green cots—he missed his bed, his fluffy Palmwoods blanket, and the nocturnal noises of 2J. But that was gone—life had pushed him to a cheap excuse of a bed within Rocque Records, forcing him to listen to the worries that inhabited him.

He peered around the dark studio. Mama Knight, Katie and Kelly had taken the three cots along the opposite wall by the glass double-doors, and he, Kendall and Carlos occupied three of the four remaining ones on the other side of the room. Gustavo had decided to sleep in his office a ways down the hall, but Logan could still hear his muffled snores shake through the walls.

A small whimper broke through the darkness, catching his attention.

Carlos was squirming as if he were in pain. He snatched wildly at the flat pillow beneath his head and grabbed it, flinging it onto the floor. He whimpered again, and even in the low visibility Logan could see a trail of tears glisten across his cheek. Then Carlos buried his face within his arms and didn't move anymore.

Logan felt like crying. He missed James too. He may have been an obnoxious friend who drove him nuts most of the time, but for him to abandon them—that was out of line; shocking. Logan still couldn't believe it.

He looked over at Kendall. He lay sprawled on his back; his fingers hanging off the edge of the cot. Envy sifted through him; he wished that he too, could fall asleep.

He lay back down and closed his eyes, but as soon as his head hit the pillow, his back and neck began to protest again. He groaned and tossed himself onto his stomach, burying his face beneath the thin bedding.

"Hey," he heard a voice whisper, "are you okay?"

He pulled the blanket away from his head and looked up. Kendall was sitting up in his cot, concern drawn across his eyes.

_Are any of us?_ Logan wondered.

"My back hurts," he whispered back. "Neck too."

Kendall pushed his blanket down to the foot of his cot, drawing his legs up to himself and patting the space in front of him. "Come, sit here. I'll give you a massage."

Logan obediently crept out of his bed and sat on Kendall's, his back facing him. He shuddered and closed his eyes the moment he felt Kendall's thumbs knead into the back of his shoulders.

"Whoa," Kendall muttered.

"Yeah."

A few minutes of silence followed, give for the small noises Logan occasionally made. Kendall's hands felt nice but there was only so much he could do—he couldn't twist Hollywood into giving them what they had thought was theirs; he couldn't ease the unspoken worries that hung around the studio like a low-lying fog.

"What if he doesn't come back?" Logan suddenly asked. "What if Big Time Rush _is_ a failure?"

He felt Kendall's fingers slow to a stop.

"Then I guess we'll just have to move on," he said quietly.

Logan stared down at the crumpled blanket. He supposed he had known the answer all along, but it still hurt to hear him say it.

"I guess."

Suddenly he felt Kendall wrap his arms around him, pulling him back into his lap. He buried his face into the back of Logan's neck.

So it was _a little_ strange to be sitting in his best friend's lap, but considering everything they had gone through in the last few days, he welcomed his closeness and leaned back against him, feeling himself sink.

Another whimper speared through the room.

"Poor Carlos," he whispered.

Cold air breezed across his neck as Kendall looked up. "I know." He was quiet for a long moment. "But he'll be okay." He let go of him and pulled away, which Logan took as a cue to leave. He slipped a foot down onto the floor and was about to stand when Kendall grabbed his wrist.

"Stay," he whispered.

Logan turned and looked at him. He seemed so pleading; so vulnerable and Logan didn't really want to go back to his own cot anyway so he lay back and snuggled in next to him, letting him pull the blanket over their heads.


	2. It Wasn't Invisible

When Logan was seven, he and Kendall took a trip to his grandparents' farm in central middle-of-nowhere, Kentucky. The first couple of days were full of fun and mischief: chasing chickens and stealing chocolate chips from the pantry—of course, only to be caught by the tell-tale chocolate smears around their mouths. Then, on the third day around ten A.M., a gray tornado swept up in the near distance.

Grandma and Grandpa Mitchell grabbed the two boys and hurried down into the cellar. Grandpa Mitchell barely had just the right amount of time to slam the door shut. The tornado howled throughout the house overhead, drowning out Grandma Mitchell's last-minute instructions and their screams.

Thick dust flew in through the cracks in the doorway, stinging Logan's eyes and making it hard for him to breathe. The boys sat huddled together against a heavy wooden barrel, coughing violently. Grandpa Mitchell threw his big coat over them in order to protect them.

Under the heavy leather jacket, which smelled distinctly of coffee and cows, Logan started to cry. Kendall threw his arms around him and squeezed him tightly, letting him bury his face into his chest. But it wasn't until the tornado had passed and Grandma and Grandpa Mitchell had gone upstairs to inspect the damage that Logan saw that Kendall had been crying too.

It was kind of like that now, except that he couldn't see anything. Here, under the covers as they tried to make themselves comfortable, Logan could feel Kendall's vulnerability. Uncertainty. He knew he hated not having answers. In some ways Logan was like that too, especially when it came to a particularly difficult math problem or an article about out-of-place artifacts he had come across on the internet. Or a best friend's sudden abandonment.

He squirmed, trying to find a comfortable position that didn't aggravate his backside, but he quickly gave up. The cot was simply too small. Kendall tried scooting over, but quickly threw himself back against Logan when the cot threatened to tip over. Finally they settled for lying on their sides; their noses almost pressed up against each other. Logan could feel Kendall's breath sweep over his cheeks.

"This reminds me of the time we went to Kentucky," Kendall muttered.

Logan smiled. It was as though they were connected by some sort of invisible thread, maybe even a sixth-sense. "You know, I was just thinking about that."

Kendall chuckled. "Figures."

The next few minutes were quiet except for their increasingly-growing heavier breathing. It was hot under the blanket, but neither of them made an effort to reach fresh air.

Logan suddenly gave him a light punch on the shoulder. "Kendall, you're my best friend."

Kendall punched him back. "And you're _my_ best friend."

Of course Logan already knew that, but it still gave him a reason to smile. "Thanks buddy," he whispered. His smile grew wider when he felt a poke in his shoulder.

Suddenly a loud snore ripped through the moment. Startled, Logan jumped forward, his lips crashing into his.

Kendall's lips were soft and his light wisps of a mustache tickled him as it brushed against his upper lip.

Connected. Except this time, the thread wasn't invisible.

Logan pressed himself against him a little harder but a split-second later, it was over.

Kendall flung the blanket onto the floor and shot off the cot.

"Hockey pucks," he panted.

Logan slowly sat up and blinked, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Because sure, it was an accident, but he also enjoyed it more than he probably should have.

"We kissed," he breathed, feeling the blood rise up into his cheeks.

"Yeah," Kendall squeaked, looking back at him. He reddened.

Unable to stand the awkwardness, Logan shot a quick look around. It was a miracle—everyone else was still asleep. Even Carlos, who was usually the first to wake at any sign of a ruckus, was still.


	3. Unnaturally Natural

Logan looked at Kendall again. He swallowed.

Kendall was staring at him, and the expression on his face was a mixture of shock, confusion and exhaustion.

"D-Did you like—" His eyes suddenly widened. "Never mind." He looked at the floor. "I'm gonna go get a drink of water." He turned on his heel and bolted from the room.

Logan began to fidget with the frayed hem of his pajama bottoms. Did he like it? Yes. Kissing Kendall was definitely different than being kissed by Camille. And no, he wasn't gay. But maybe he wasn't as straight as he had thought he was either, because that accidental touch filled him with the same sort of glow he got whenever he and Kendall were together, except three hundred times stronger. It was unnaturally natural, if that even made sense. He drew his legs up to his chest and rested his chin on his knees.

Five minutes trickled by. Ten.

Logan began to wonder if Kendall was alright. He untangled himself and stood up, shuffling out of the studio.

Kendall wasn't in the hallway, so he headed toward the break room. But when he got there it was evident that the water cooler hadn't been touched. He poked his head back out into the hall.

"Kendall," he whispered loudly. "Where are you?"

Nothing.

For the next fifteen minutes he wandered throughout the many empty rooms and corridors of Rocque Records. It was a little eerie, seeing that much empty space, especially since he knew that all the missing equipment and furniture had been sold to finance a mere second chance at their careers as pop stars. A chance that James's absence was destroying by the minute.

He had just searched the janitor's closet and was about to leave when he heard a noise overhead. Rats?

He raised an eyebrow. Rats didn't hum the melody to "Halfway There."

He looked up at the ceiling and noticed an open, attic-esque trap door in the corner just above a shelf stocked with a variety of colorful bottles. He took a deep breath and cautiously climbed up the unit, grabbing hold of the edges of the opening and pulling himself up and into the space.

He found himself in a large un-carpeted and unpainted room that strongly resembled an attic. A row of grimy, floor-length windows made up the entire far wall, and the moon illuminated the room with an unearthly greenish-blue glow.

Kendall sat adjacent to the glass, staring down into the street. He didn't look up.

Logan shuffled over and quietly sat down next to him.

Silence.

Finally Kendall spoke.

"Wanna know what I found up here?" he asked.

Logan studied his face for a moment. "Sure."

Kendall pointed to an assortment of empty chip bags, dusty corn-dog sticks and a can of 'Cuda manspray lying on the ground some feet away. "I think we found Carlos's and James's secret hideout."

Logan chuckled. "That explains a lot."

Kendall looked at the trash a moment longer before finally looking at him. "Can I ask you something?" he whispered.

"Anything." But Logan already knew what his question would be.

"Swear you'll tell me the truth."

His heart sped up a little, but he nodded. There was no use in lying: Kendall would know the truth anyway.

"Did you like it?" Kendall whispered even more quietly than before.

Logan looked at him for a long second. He lowered his gaze to the floor. "Yes," he admitted.

There was a long silence after that, during which Logan pretended to be completely enthralled with his sock. Finally he drew up the courage to look at him.

As if on cue, Kendall looked up at him as well.

"Really?" Kendall's tone grew very serious—almost cautious. "But why?"

Logan looked away. Dammit. Clearly he was the only one who had enjoyed it.

"I don't know. I just did. It was almost like, 'unnaturally—'"

"'Natural?'" Kendall finished.

Logan bit his lip. "Yeah."

But suddenly something else occurred to him. What if it was all a mistake? What if it was just his physical and emotional exhaustion talking? "What if it's all a fluke?" he blurted out.

"Like some freak accident?" Kendall supplied, his voice slightly going up in pitch.

Logan began to pull at his frayed hem again. "Yeah."

After yet another pause, Kendall spoke.

"There's only one way to know for sure," he said slowly.

Logan's eyes widened. _No, he can't be—_

Kendall scooted closer to him. "Kiss me."

Logan stared at him.

Kendall narrowed his eyes. "Logan, kiss me," he demanded.

Logan swallowed nervously. He had a point: if he didn't kiss him, he would end up wondering forever. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and leaned forward.

He softly brushed his lips over Kendall's, almost gasping at the initial contact. At first Kendall didn't respond, seemingly timid for once in his life, but he quickly grew dominant. He pushed Logan onto the floor, cradling his head with his hands and kissing him like his whole life had come down to that one moment. Logan reached up and entangled his fingers in Kendall's hair, tugging at it with a sweet fervor that he didn't understand. He let go with one hand and carefully tucked it over his shoulders, pulling him even closer.

A loud gasp resounded in the room, yanking him back into reality. They roughly broke apart, heads snapping up at the unexpected noise.

Carlos stood a few feet away, eyes wide with confusion and... pain? Logan pushed Kendall off and quickly scrambled to his feet. "Carlos—" he began to stammer, but what could he even say?

He wouldn't have had time to say anything anyway. Carlos gave a loud cry, made a sharp turn and ran, disappearing through the trap door.


	4. No One in Their Right Minds

"Carlos!" Kendall and Logan yelled simultaneously. Logan ran after him, throwing himself through the trap door and ignoring the pain that shot up his ankles the second his feet hit the ground. He ran out into the hall, making a split-second decision on the spot to run to his right, hoping it was the route Carlos had taken.

He ran through the dimly lit corridors, past the break room, making a left and past Gustavo's office. That was when he caught a glimpse of Carlos as he flung open the door to the stairs and began clambering down the metal steps.

"Carlos! Wait!" Logan panted, starting down the stairs after him. "Wait!"

Carlos suddenly stopped, whipping around. "What?" he snarled.

Logan's eyes widened. "I-I," he stammered, but once again, he had nothing to say.

"Just go back to sucking face with Kendall," Carlos snapped. "And leave me the hell alone." He began stomping down the stairs again.

"Carlos!" Logan shouted, and before he could even realize it, the words were out of his mouth: "It was just an experiment! It meant NOTHING!"

Then, a small voice above him, at the top of the staircase: "Really?"

Logan turned. He felt his heart break and immediately wished he could take it back.

Kendall looked at him. Their eyes locked for what seemed to be the longest time, and then Kendall flicked his gaze away, staring at the floor instead.

Logan could feel the tears begin to brim. "Ken—"

"What in the world is going on here?" Mrs. Knight yelled, stepping into view from behind her son. "Can't you see it's two in the morning? No one in their right minds should be up at this hour, much less screaming the building down!"

Kelly appeared beside her, yawning. Her hair was in rollers, and large bags hung beneath her eyes. "She's right. And all of us—especially you three—have an extremely long and stressful day ahead. So get back up here and go to bed!" The two women turned around, shuffling back into the hall, Kendall following closely behind.

Logan hurried back up the stairs and down the hall. He tried to match his pace with Kendall's and catch his eye, but he refused to acknowledge him. Finally Logan gave up, shoving his hands into his pajama pockets and trying to swallow the lump in his throat. They walked on in silence until they reached the studio.

The light was on. Katie was sitting up in her cot, rubbing her eyes. She wrinkled her forehead when the procession began to make their ways back to their cots. "What's going on?"

Mrs. Knight reached over and ruffled her daughter's hair, who immediately made a face. "Nothing, sweetheart. We're all just getting back to bed."

Katie raised her eyebrows.

Logan climbed onto his cot and faced Kendall, but he found his back turned toward him.

"Kendall," he whispered, trying to be discreet. "Kendall..."

Nothing.

"Kendall!"

Kendall shot up in his bed. "Just go to freakin' sleep, Logan!"

"Kendall!" Mrs. Knight snapped. "That's enough!"

Kendall threw himself back down onto the cot and yanked the blanket over his head. Logan stared at the bundle, stunned.

"Yeah, just go to freakin' sleep," Carlos muttered.

"Quiet!" With that, Mrs. Knight flicked off the light.


	5. Confusing Love With Friendship

Breakfast was awful: both the food and the atmosphere. Eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for the third meal consecutively was deeply unhealthy and tiresome. The more Logan tried to eat his breakfast, the more he craved blueberry pancakes and strawberry yogurt and banana bread—anything but that thick mixture of wannabe grape flavoring and throat-coating peanut butter. He dropped his half-eaten sandwich onto the cardboard box-slash-makeshift table and hesitantly looked around the room. The other boys seemed to have similar sentiments toward the food.

"I'm sick of this. I want some real food," Carlos growled under his breath.

Katie chuckled. "Your idea of real food is a corn dog."

"Sure beats this crap." Carlos grabbed a pen off of Kelly's clipboard, and much to her obvious disgust, began stabbing the sandwich until the jelly squished out from the sides.

"Anything's better than this," Logan joined in.

Carlos stopped and slowly looked at him. For a moment, Logan thought he was going to stab him instead. But Carlos just looked tired and hungry and sad. He stood up. "I'm just gonna go to the bathroom." He walked out of the room, dragging his feet.

Logan gave Kendall at tentative glance. As far as he knew, he hadn't said anything to anyone since his outburst the night before. He sat still, staring sadly at his sandwich. Mama Knight, noticing her son's silent distress, gave him a hug and muttered something that Logan couldn't catch. Kendall stood and quietly left.

As soon as his back disappeared through the doorway, Logan felt a poke in his side. He turned to find Katie with her eyebrows raised. "Dude," she hissed. He swallowed. "Did something happen between you guys?"

"No," he said so quietly he might as well have not said it at all. An obvious lie—just like the one he had spewed at the top of his lungs the night before. That was a lie, right? But maybe it wasn't. What if—what if he just wasn't ready to deal with a torrent of new emotions? He didn't like rushing into situations because he usually just messed them up whenever he did. But Kendall—that was how Kendall lived: spontaneous decisions and commotion all around him.

Logan wasn't even sure if he liked him as more than a friend. Sure, apparently he had liked kissing him, but what if he was just confusing love with friendship? Maybe that was why he had said what he had said.

Love or not, he had obviously screwed up whatever kind of relationship they had. Kendall wouldn't even _look_ at him. Tears began to blur his vision. Hockey pucks. "Excuse me," he mumbled, drawing himself to his feet and leaving the room.

Even out in the hall, he tried to force the tears away. But that quickly proved to be a failure; the first began to fall as he pushed open the bathroom door.

Carlos was washing his hands. He looked up. "Logan, are you okay?"

Logan shook his head. "N-No." He should have gone somewhere else.

He snatched a paper towel from the dispenser and dabbed his eyes. Carlos shut the water off and hugged him tightly. "If it helps, I'm really sorry I was a jerk," he said.

Logan offered him a wan smile. He pulled away. "It's okay—I know you miss James."

"Doesn't mean I can be a total asshole to you and Kendall."

Logan stiffened. This did not go unnoticed by Carlos. "You and Kendall," he said quietly, "What's going on?"

So Logan spilled the story, starting with how his neck and back hurt and ending with, "I don't even know if I like him like that or not." He studied his face for a reaction but found none. "Does it bother you?" he asked.

"What? No." Carlos grinned. "I'm just surprised it never happened before."

Logan wrinkled his forehead. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I guess I just thought you guys had something, but just weren't ready to tell anyone."

Logan was floored. Could it be that something had been brewing between him and Kendall for some time now and he just hadn't noticed it? Had _Kendall_ even noticed?

"What about Kendall?" he whispered.

"Kendall? He's obviously upset." Carlos said sadly. He looked away. "I think you hurt him when you yelled that it meant nothing."

Logan stared at the floor. He felt like punching himself.

"'Cause, you know," Carlos continued, "he likes you."

Logan's head snapped back up. "How do you know?"

Carlos rolled his eyes. "Sometimes you can be so stupid," he muttered. He laughed when Logan made a face. "It's so obvious. Have you ever noticed that whenever James or I hug you that Kendall always comes and steals you back?"

Logan felt the familiar lump return to his throat. He had a point. But there was still something that didn't make sense.

"But he's dating Jo!"

Carlos sighed. "I guess he figured you'd never like him back, so he started going out with her..." He looked at his watch. "Hey, it's nine-forty—Gustavo said he'd murder us if we were late." He opened the door and started for the studio, Logan following after him.

Sure enough, as soon as they walked into the room, Gustavo began to scream.

"Where have you dogs been? I told you to be here at nine-thirty! Do you not understand that the concert is in two freakin' days? TWO DAYS! ONE MILLION DOLLARS! And where's Kendall?" He shot them a death glare.

Logan stared at the ground.

Much to Gustavo's disgust and Carlos and Logan's misfortune, Kendall didn't show up until forty minutes later. He shuffled into studio, his hands in his pockets. He didn't look at anyone, instead going directly to his designated place beside Carlos. "Sorry," he mumbled, "I was at the Palmwoods."

Gustavo's eyes softened a little. "Did you talk to James?"

Kendall shook his head. "No, I was visiting Jo."

Logan looked at the floor again. Carlos coughed quietly.

They danced and sang for the next three hours without so much as a water break, failing at everything. And it was all very awkward—Logan kept bumping into Kendall and ended up sure that he was deliberately screwing up his choreography in order to distance himself from him. Finally Gustavo yelled that he didn't care what they sang anymore—they sucked and would ultimately fail him anyway. Kendall immediately launched into a rousing rendition of "The Turd Song," and Logan quickly joined in, trying to make some sort of amends.

"And you sme-e-eh-e-ell, like a tu-u-rd!"


	6. At Least an Answer

"James!" The reaction was instantaneous and instinctive—especially for Carlos, who immediately ran and snatched him up, burying his face into those washboard abs. "You're back!"

But soon an air of resentment began to sink in.

"What are you doing here?" Kendall snarled, taking a step forward.

Logan flinched.

James's eyes widened. "I-I missed you guys."

Kendall narrowed his eyes. "Yeah." He shot him another death glare, pushed past him and stomped out the door.

"Great! We got James back," Gustavo screamed as he slammed a fist onto the table, "but now we lost Kendall!" He stood up and threw down his papers. "Kelly! We have to go see investors." He huffed his way out of the room, cursing under his breath.

Kelly followed after him. She stopped at the doorway and shook her pen at them. "You guys better fix this—whatever this is." She left.

Mrs. Knight stood up as well. "Come on, Katie. Let's give the boys some privacy." Katie made a face, but followed her away.

James sat down on the floor. "Great. Now Kendall hates me."

Carlos crouched down next to him. "No, he doesn't—it's just been a bad night and day." He looked up at Logan, who began to feel his eyes ache with tears again.

But Carlos wasn't done. "Actually, James… I'm kinda mad too."

James stared at the ground. "I'm really sorry Carlitos, Logan."

Logan managed a small smile at the apology, but his mind wasn't on James. "It's okay. Don't worry about it."

James beamed. He turned to Carlos, expectant.

Carlos looked at him for a long minute.

"You can make it up to me later," he finally said. His mouth curled into a smirk.

For a moment James looked terrified, but his face quickly lit up. He wrestled him into an enormous hug. "Thanks." He sighed, letting him go. "Now all I need is for Kendall to forgive me, but he hates me now…"

"Oh, it's not really you—it's Logan," Carlos said.

Again, Logan felt like crying.

James raised his eyebrows. "Logan? How the hell did that happen?"

Carlos looked up. "Can I tell him?"

Logan sighed, taking a seat. "Yeah, I guess."

And Carlos did just that, and when he was finished, James's mouth looked as if he were getting ready to eat an enormous taco.

"You mean nothing happened before?"

Logan blushed. He too?

Carlos shook his head.

James closed his mouth and bit his lip. "But that doesn't make any sense—especially with what happened today, I was sure things were moving!"

It was Logan's turn to look confused. "What do you mean, 'what happened today'?"

James leaned forward. "You guys don't know? Wow."

"So tell us!" Carlos demanded.

"Kendall broke up with Jo this morning."

Logan scrambled to his feet. "What?" he choked out.

James nodded. "Everyone at the Palmwoods is talking about it. But that's not all—I heard the Jennifers talking, and they already think it has something to do with you." He looked up. "Dude, you gotta do something."

Carlos looked up at him as well. "Yeah, you have to talk to him—he broke up with his girlfriend, for, well—you."

"But I don't even know if I like him! Twenty-four hours ago—" Logan began to shake, and his voice dropped down to a whisper. "Twenty-four hours ago, all I knew was that Kendall was my best friend. Now—now I don't know anything anymore."

James stood up. "Then tell him that! Logan, he deserves at least an answer."

Of course he did.

Logan took in a deep breath. "Okay," he whispered as he tucked his hands into his pockets, "I'll tell him."

James smiled. He reached down and grabbed one of Carlos's hands, pulling him to his feet. "Go find Kendall. And check your phone."

Carlos nodded and ran out. The moment the door swooshed shut behind him, James pulled out his phone. His fingers immediately flew over the board.

Logan raised an eyebrow and sighed. "No plans. I'm not up for surprises."

He was shot a glare. "Too bad." Then the phone vibrated, and James looked back at the screen. "Awesome." He grabbed Logan by the wrist and yanked him out the door. "Come on!"

"James! I said no surprises!" Logan tried to wrestle himself away, but James just tightened his grip. He pulled him down the hall, rounding the corner to Gustavo's office. He skid to a stop, throwing the door open.

"James what are you—Stop it!" Suddenly Logan found himself shoved into the office. "James! Wait!" he shouted as the door slammed shut. He began to pound his fists against it. "James!"

"You're not coming out until you tell him!"

He let his fists slide down the door. "But why—" Suddenly the color drained from his face.

He turned around. His breath caught.

Kendall was sitting on the desk.


	7. Back to Before

When Logan was ten years-old, his fourth-grade teacher, Mr. Jehue, gave him a book entitled "The Anatomy of a Rat," after seeing his interest in Dizzie the rat, the class pet. Logan scrutinized the book cover to cover, marveling at the colorful diagrams of the creature's bodily systems. But midway throughout the school year, Dizzie grew sick and died. Mr. Jehue, not wanting to let an educational opportunity slip by, conducted an impromptu biology lesson: slicing through the rat's belly and showing the class its tiny organs—although now that Logan thought about it, that was probably illegal.

Most of the children couldn't handle it: the boys making retching noises, and the little girls crying and refusing to look. But Logan's attention was rapt; his eyes wide and watching the teacher's every move; excited to see the book's illustrations played out in real life. Then, suddenly, he felt a deep pity for the rat pour over him—the poor animal, organs splayed out for all to see.

That was what he felt like now, exposed. Dissected.

"Hi Kendall," he managed.

Kendall looked at him, and for a moment, Logan was sure he saw fear flit across his eyes. Then his gaze grew nonchalant. "Hey Logan."

Minutes went by, and they were silent: Kendall sitting on the desk, staring at the carpet; Logan standing awkwardly and trying to look everywhere but his face. He knew he had to speak at one point, but really, where was he supposed to start?

Suddenly there was a loud banging at the door. "I don't hear any talking!" Carlos shouted, and then there was James, hissing: "Carlos! Shh!"

Logan took a deep breath, forcing himself to finally look at Kendall.

"Kenny?" he whispered, surprising himself.

Kendall seemed to be caught off guard as well. He looked up at him, suddenly blushing. "Yeah?"

"I'm really sorry," Logan said quietly. "For—for you know, yelling..." His voice grew even softer, "what I yelled."

Kendall looked away. "It's not your fault," he offered after a pause. "It's mine."

Of course he would say that. He just _always_ had to be the perfect best friend—the kind that wouldn't let anyone take the blame for anything. Logan felt a lump begin to form in his throat, swallowing it away.

"No, it's mine," he protested, taking a step forward. "Why would it be yours? You didn't do anything."

"Yes I did," Kendall insisted, looking over to the wall at his left. He took in a visibly large breath. "It's my fault that I actually believed we could be more than just friends," he said softly.

Logan didn't know what to say. It was different hearing it from him, as opposed to Carlos and James.

"Is that why you let me kiss you in the attic?" he asked. "Because you like me?"

Kendall looked at the ground. "Yeah."

Logan sat down on Gustavo's cot, feeling even more terrible by the second. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

Kendall continued to stare at the floor. "Because I knew you didn't see me that way, and I didn't want to lose you, as you know, my best friend." He sighed. "So when I met Jo, I thought maybe I could finally get over you. And it seemed to be working for a while—until last night." He finally looked at him. "Then I realized I'd never gotten over you."

Logan felt his eyes begin to ache again. He stared down at the ground. "So does this mean you're into girls and guys?" he asked, curious, but at the same time trying to avoid what he ultimately had to say.

"I guess so... kind of. I mean, I think girls are pretty and all, and then there's just you."

There was a long silence after that.

Finally he drew up the necessary words and the courage he needed. "Kendall," he started, still not looking at him, "I'm not gonna lie to you—I felt something up there, too. But I don't know if I _like_- like you or not. Can we just—" He looked up, swallowing the lump that had formed again in his throat. "Just go back to before?" he finished hesitantly.

Kendall's eyes sparkled with genuine shyness. "I'd like that." He smiled. "Whatever you want, Logie."

There he was _again_: being the sacrificing best friend. Logan forced himself to smile, but on the inside, he felt like kicking himself.

* * *

Dinner was a different scene that night: Kendall and James made up and Gustavo and Kelly had managed to get corn-dogs from somewhere, which made everyone's night, especially Carlos's.

"It's like the corn-dog god heard my prayers!" he shouted the moment Kelly dropped the grease-stained box on the box-table.

Katie raised an eyebrow. "What kind of weird religion are you into?"

Carlos made a harrumph noise. "Whatever one the corn-dog god is in," he said as-a-matter-of-factedly. "He's giving you dinner, so shush and appreciate!"

Katie laughed. "This is true. But who says the corn-dog god is a guy? I say it's a girl."

"And I say her name is Kelly," Kendall joined in, and the room immediately burst into laughter, including Kelly herself.

Logan sat on the floor next to Kendall, and for the most part, it was great. But as dinner went on, the he began to feel more and more uncomfortable and _discontent_. He watched James and Carlos go along with their usual antics: using their corn-dogs as light-sabers and pelting each other with little pieces of the bread; James getting mad when Carlos smashed a tater-tot into his hair, and then the giant hug of forgiveness in which he tickled him half to death.

Then Logan looked at he and Kendall, and he grew even more upset. There wasn't any happy squealing and messing around, and although they were sitting together, they were an entire foot apart. Kendall was busy with his sister, listening to her business plans on selling Big Time Rush merchandise, and their mother was putting in her two cents as well.

Logan looked toward James and Carlos again. They were still at it, except that now Carlos had tater-tots in his hair as well. Their laughter was loud but not obnoxious, and no one reprimanded them for it, not even Gustavo.

Logan stood up and quietly slipped from the room.

In the studio, he began to rifle through his suitcase, searching for a scrap of paper. Suddenly he spied the corner of a dog-eared, much-loved book. He grabbed hold of it and pulled it out.

"The Anatomy of a Rat."

He smiled. Then he flipped to the back, and in one determined motion, ripped the end sheet out. Grabbing a pen, he wrote:

"Meet me in the attic tonight at one-thirty."

It was simple, but he was content with it. He folded it up into fourths and quickly ran back to join the others.


	8. Like the First Time

Logan slipped down the dark halls of Rocque Records toward the custodial closet, trying to be as quiet as he possibly could as to not awaken Mrs. Knight and have his plans ruined.

It wasn't quite one-thirty yet, but he had awoken to find Kendall's cot empty.

After reaching the closet and gently closing the door behind him, he climbed up the shelf and hoisted himself once more into the room above.

Like the previous night, Kendall was sitting by the glass wall, gazing out at the cityscape.

Logan thought he looked beautiful; the greenish-blue of night washing over his features. He couldn't see the color of his eyes from this distance, but he knew they were that beautiful brook-green color—the kind that someone almost expects to see tadpoles in. He smiled and crossed the room, plopping down next to him.

"Hey," he half-whispered.

Kendall looked at him and smiled. "Hey Logie."

His smile was contagious; Logan's light smile broke out into a grin almost immediately.

They sat there for a long moment, quiet; simply smiling at each other. Then Kendall broke the silence, whispering: "Did you want to talk about something, or did you tell me to come up here just so we could lose even more sleep?"

Logan chuckled. "Yeah, I did."

"Yeah to the talking, or yeah to the staying awake?"

He laughed. "Yeah to the talking."

Kendall grinned. "Then talk."

Logan scooted a little bit closer and gazed up at him. He cleared his throat.

"We're best friends and all..." His voice suddenly trailed off. It didn't make sense: Kendall already liked him, so why was he so nervous all of a sudden? He looked away.

Kendall raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Yeah, I know we're best friends."

Logan made himself look at him again. He swallowed. "Can we be more than just that?" he finally whispered.

Kendall's eyes widened. A blush swept across his cheeks. "Really?" And then he smiled: a smile so bright Logan found it even more contagious than the previous one.

He nodded. "Yes. I just—I just don't know from what point you want to start from."

Kendall's eyes began to sparkle. "Whatever point you want, Logie."

Logan took a deep breath. "Then how about this one?" He leaned forward and gently kissed him, taking the time to relish the familiarity and the unknown; just like the first time.

And he didn't stop there. He grasped Kendall's shoulders and pulled himself into his lap, and he in turn, hugged him so close that Logan could feel his heartbeat against his own chest. He sank against him, reaching up and lightly running his fingers through his hair.

Finally he pulled away, searching his still-wide eyes for an answer.

"Are you okay?" he suddenly whispered.

Kendall gave him a long look. Finally he nodded, smiling and hugging him even tighter. Logan squeezed him back, tucking his head onto his shoulder.

He wasn't sure how long they stayed like that: fifteen, maybe twenty minutes. But finally Kendall spoke, prompting him to lift his head and look at him.

"So, what are we now?"

Logan shrugged. It was a good question, but he didn't really have an answer. Then one came to him; one that he liked the sound of.

"We're the same," he started. "We're still best friends—that hasn't changed. But we're also a little more special than that." Labels weren't important; within time they would figure out exactly what they were. It was just going to take a little bit of time; a little bit of discovering.

Kendall smiled. "I like that."

Logan resettled himself, smiling into his neck. "Now all we have to do is tell Carlos and James," he murmured.

Kendall chuckled. "Actually, I think they already know. Look."

Logan looked up and followed his gaze.

Carlos was sitting cross-legged on the floor by the trap door, and James was peeking in from the opening in the floor, undoubtedly standing on the shelf below him. They waved.

Logan blushed. "How long have you guys been there?"

"Long enough," James called. He pulled himself into the room, walking over. Carlos stood up and followed him, and they sat down next to them simultaneously.

"Finally," Carlos commented. He stuck his tongue out.

James laughed. "Seriously."

Kendall grinned at them. "Thanks guys."

Carlos waved him away. "Nah, you don't need to say thanks to anyone. After all, it's your doing that we're all out here in L.A. in the first place."

At this they all stared out into the cityscape, silent. But Logan knew they were all thinking about the same thing.

"What if we never make it?" James finally whispered.

Logan felt Kendall shift beneath him. "Then we'll just keep coming back," he announced. "And we'll keep doing it until we do—even if it's without Gustavo or Griffin or anybody else, because you know what? We're the best team there ever was."

And they all smiled at this, because it was true.

"Thanks buddy," James said.

They resumed their silent lookout over the city, and eventually Logan grew tired. He looked away from the window and saw that he wasn't the only one who was succumbing to sleep: Carlos was already drooling on James's pajama sleeve.

He smiled. Kendall was right—they were the best team ever, especially now that they were all beginning to bond in new, different ways—even if all their relationships were of the unnamed variety.

Content, he buried his face into Kendall's neck again. He fell asleep, knowing that tomorrow held another day.


End file.
